


Cleansed

by VergerBloom



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Hannibal washes Will's hair, Hannigram - Freeform, M/M, Murder Husbands in Florence, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:35:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27139462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VergerBloom/pseuds/VergerBloom
Summary: What if Will went to Florence with Hannibal instead of Bedelia?A retelling of the bath scene in Secondo, with Will in Bedelia's place.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 66





	Cleansed

Hannibal had drawn Will a bath.

He feels the heat of it as he pads along the passageway, barefoot, and enters the living area. The bleached September sky is beginning its metamorphosis into night outside the arched windows, melding into golds and blues at the edges, transforming the River Arno into a black mass like ink. Hannibal’s face is an oil painting, soft smudges of grey and bone white. He glances at Will once before standing wordlessly and striding into the parlour, devoured by shadow. Will undresses quickly, slipping off his white cotton shirt and black slacks. The water is temperate, and scented with lavender. In the softness of early twilight, the water appears quite black, like blood. Will submerges himself in it, eyes fluttering shut. When he opens them, Hannibal is knelt next to the bath, its gold sheen fragmenting like diamonds in his eyes. Will smiles; he didn’t hear him enter. He is silent as he rolls up the sleeves of his blue shirt, buttoning it at the elbows, and squeezes soap into his hand. He slips his fingers into Will’s hair lithely, gently cleansing the sun and Florentine dust from his curls. It is thrilling, to have hands capable of such violence touch him with such tenderness.

“What were you like as a young man?” Will asks suddenly, as though the words were forced from his throat by another tongue. Hannibal stills momentarily. Will feels the scrape of his gold ring against his forehead. For a moment, he doesn’t believe Hannibal will answer. 

“Discovering my taste,” he replies finally, voice low and soft, “and discovering my taste often differed from that of others.”

Will huffs low in his throat, as much amused as he is frustrated. Hannibal continues to lather Will’s hair, breaths steady and even. 

“I suppose we have that in kind then, Dr Lecter,” he replies, tone sardonic. He’s closed his eyes again. 

“I would have liked to know you as a young man, Will,” Hannibal utters softly, brushing Will’s neck with his fingers. The intimacy is striking, renders the air in the room hot and sweet.

“I wonder, which of us would have corrupted the other first,” Will quips, and he doesn’t have to look at Hannibal to know that he is smiling. He pictures it in his minds’ eye; the delicate mouth curved like a bow, the grey eyes taking on a new light. Such an odd expression for such cruel features.

Will stills for a moment, the water contracting around him and stilling like a final breath. He twists around to face Hannibal, barely making out his face in the dark. 

“Why can’t you go home, Hannibal?” he whispers.The words seem to carry their own weight, clattering to the marble floor and ringing around the room. Will knows the answer, but he wants Hannibal to speak it, concede, admit defeat, unmask completely. Hannibal sighs, gently, almost cautiously, lifting his hand as though to strike Will. Instead, he skims a thumb over Will’s cheekbone, back and forth. His soft touches are almost as dangerous as his violence, Will thinks, like the lull of a siren before it drags you into the ocean.

He fixes Will with a distant, cryptic, look, thumb still stroking his cheek. His eyes harden finally, as he curls his fingers around the back of Will’s neck. The room is almost submerged in darkness now, save the glint of the water and Hannibal’s steel eyes.

“What do you believe?” He cocks his head, poking his tongue into his cheek, twining his fingers in Will’s curls. 

Will pauses, meeting his eyes. “I believe your tastes were fully realised,” he replies finally, leaning into Hannibal’s touch.

Hannibal’s mouth quirks up. “My becoming.”

“Your becoming.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at 3 am so I apologise if it's a little rough lol. Thank you for reading <3


End file.
